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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28251600">Play the Part</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnduranceinHope/pseuds/EnduranceinHope'>EnduranceinHope</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernDayBard/pseuds/ModernDayBard'>ModernDayBard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>2020 Nostalgia Christmas Fic Collaboration [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, The Doctor and Donna make Christmas special</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:00:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28251600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnduranceinHope/pseuds/EnduranceinHope, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernDayBard/pseuds/ModernDayBard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Donna land a little harder than they should, and help bring some Christmas cheer in the most unexpected way. </p><p>Part 7 of ModernDayBard and EnduranceinHope's 2020 Nostalgia Christmas Fic Collaboration.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>2020 Nostalgia Christmas Fic Collaboration [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057715</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Play the Part</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Poster's Note: I'm only posting this story. Modern wrote this one :) </p><p>Author’s Note: So, here’s a fandom that I am a little startled to realize I hardly wrote anything for, save a two-shot of some silly nonsense one of my roommates and I came up with once. Well, even if it isn’t one I wrote for a lot, it definitely earns its place as a ‘nostalgia fandom’ for me by sheer fact that it was one of the first ‘big fandoms’ I was a part of…</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Of all the places for your bloody ship to break down, why did it have to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>here!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doctor didn’t bother to crawl out of where he was, poking at the interior wiring of the TARDIS’s main console as he answered Donna’s not-question. “What’s wrong with here? It’s—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s earth, and it’s not even an interesting time, either. I remember this year: it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>boring</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, its only for a little bit—” Something snapped and sparked, and he only just managed to pull his hand back in time. “—hopefully. Anyhow, at least it’s Christmas Eve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard Donna snort out a bitter, dismissive breath. “So?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, right. Not big on Christmas—hence (and even more so after) the Christmas wedding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Doctor was saved from having to answer by a knock at the TARDIS door. He started, smacked his head on the console above him, and decided that not moving so quickly was probably a good idea. “Donna!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh for—Fine, Space Boy: make me the messenger…” Donna muttered as she opened the door to see (sadly) the same grey-skied city scape as before…now with a little boy bundled against the winter chill in an over-large coat and hat staring up at her, wide-eyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw the crash!” he gasped out (which the Doctor thought was a little harsh—compared to some, this had been a downright </span>
  <em>
    <span>gentle</span>
  </em>
  <span> landing). “Are you Santa’s elves? Is he coming this year?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first question had Donna opening her mouth for a sharp retort, the second silenced it in her throat and had her looking at the kid again: the coat and hat were large, but old and definitely thin and somewhat worn around the edges and elbows—a hand-me-down from someone or other, and the rest of his clothes didn’t look all that new, either, but his big brown eyes staring up at her were still alight with hope and wonder—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two of ‘em, yeah. We—uh—help do some of the work. See…it’s hard to get everywhere in one night, so some of us elves are—eh—honorary Santas for the night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Face hidden as he slowly wormed his way back into the main room, the Doctor was free to gape—who was this person and what had she done with Donna Noble?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that why you’ve got a magic box and not a magic sleigh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er—yeah. The reindeer only like the big man, see? Uh, so the rest of us got a little creative in the toy shop one year and—hey presto!” The Doctor had joined them in the doorway by this point, and she spared him a </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> with a clear message: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Play along, Space Boy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t respond, instead kneeling in front of the small child. “We even used the same kind of magic as Santa’s sleigh, so it fits more than it should </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> it flies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eyes and mouth wide open, the kid was practically vibrating now. Abruptly though, he stilled. “But you crashed,” he pointed out solemnly. “Does that mean you won’t be able to deliver the presents you’re supposed to? Will those kids not get their Christmas, either?” Tears were welling up now as he looked between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of that,” the Doctor cut it with a wink before standing and offering the boy his hand. “See—we’ve got it all fixed already!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy took his hand and grabbed Donna’s, too, dragging the startled woman after them as the Doctor led the way into the TARDIS. Donna tried hard not to gasp—the large room was now </span>
  <em>
    <span>covered</span>
  </em>
  <span> in red-and-green lights blinking cheerfully, and the air now smelled vaguely of…chocolate and peppermint? But how—it was like the TARDIS itself had joined in with the two of them to sell their story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s plenty of magic here to take us anywhere we need—and bring Christmas with us!” the Doctor declared to the little boy before dramatically wheeling to consult a nearby screen. “And you, Thomas Whiller, happen to be the very first one on our list!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Little Thomas looked from one to the other, face alight as a disbelieving smile spread across his face. “Me? Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you are,” Donna couldn’t help but answer—fan of the holiday or no, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> just let this kid down. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Some</span>
  </em>
  <span>thing in this place had to make a good present—</span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span>thing to bring another smile to that little face…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Doctor strode off, gesturing for the two to follow him to the room that Donna occasionally found herself deeming ‘the living room’ (more for the sort of feel to it than to any form or function, honestly) only to find it was now living up to the nickname: decked out with lights and garlands, dominated by a fully-decorated tree in front of an improbably roaring fireplace, and filled with piles of presents. Thomas stared, stunned, and Donna could hardly blame him—she was just as shocked! But a beautifully-wrapped package at her elbow with the tag ‘Thomas Whiller’ on it caught her eye and spurred her back into motion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She picked it up and grandly presented it to Thomas—and damn it if she wasn’t smiling </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> tearing up at the sheer wonder on his face and disbelief in his voice as he all but whispered, “For me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just for you,” she affirmed. “Santa asked us to be extra certain that you got it, so we came here first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned slightly and, as if responding to her sudden thought, there was a mug of steaming cocoa on a small table just behind her. “And since you were so kind to make sure we were okay when you thought we crashed—how about a treat before you go back? Just this once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Thomas had to leave, present still held close as if he were afraid to wake and find it vanished, and as they watched him go, Donna could </span>
  <em>
    <span>swear</span>
  </em>
  <span> that she heard the Doctor mutter, “Thanks for putting on a show, dear.” Then the doors were closed and Donna turned to her friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, who is he?” she asked, grinning. “Let me guess: He grows up to write famous children’s stories? Or runs a massive charity at Christmastime each year?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Doctor shook his head, smiling. “No. He’s an ordinary boy who grows up to have an ordinary life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Donna deflated despite the TARDIS’s still-merry décor. “I thought we just did something big, something important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we did, Donna,” the Doctor replied, a small smile still in place. “We did.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Author’s Note: Had to do my favorite Doctor and my favorite of his companions—only to realize when I started writing it that Donna wasn’t the biggest fan of Christmas (at least…I’m pretty sure I remember that being a thing…) Well, it still worked, in the end, and I hope you all enjoyed it, too!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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